by Sharon Cooke | Mar 18, 2014
I stood in my kitchen. Before me, the recipe and all the ingredients to bake a pie. My Gram made the most amazing pies and as a little girl I would stand between her arms and place my hands on hers, I would move in synch with her to the motion of the rolling pin. We’d...
by Sharon Cooke | Dec 26, 2013
“I just ran from work to say good bye to the man in the sky, and say thank you.” “Where do you suppose it goes now?” “Perhaps, somewhere else in the world where others can enjoy it.” And from over the dunes and down the shoreline they appear, with one sole intention –...
by Sharon Cooke | Oct 7, 2013
Diane was a grown woman and she was in the midst of a grown-up crisis – a divorce. She reached in the pocket of her coat and pulled out a plastic Holstein cow. She smiled the type of smile that comes with a memory and dropped the cow in her handbag. “What’s with the...
by Sharon Cooke | Sep 8, 2013
Stratford in August, taking in a play. This year is “Waiting for Godot” A cast of four men who appear to have fallen on difficult times. Their lives are in the mode of waiting; waiting for Godot. Everything is put on hold and due to not being able to go forward, they...
by Sharon Cooke | Aug 7, 2013
I can’t climb it, it’s too big to push over, I can’t see around it. It’s looming down on me. I am overwhelmed. I hear a voice, “Step back, you’re too close.” I do. Now I see it is possible. I can make my way around it and go forward. I look back and I’m puzzled by how...
